Shakespeare and Music/Pythagoreanism

by Edward Woodall Naylor

VI

Miscellaneous, including Pythagoreanism and Shakespeare's Account of the More Spiritual Side of Music.

A well-known passage in Twelfth Night gives us the Opinion of Pythagoras 'concerning wild-fowl.'

The Opinion of Pythagoras 'concerning Music' is at least equally interesting, and is appropriated and assimilated by Shakespeare. The particular branch of the Pythagorean system with which we are concerned, is that which treats of the Music of the Spheres. Besides the two passages here quoted, there are others dealing with this subject—e.g.,

Ant. 5/2, 84, 'the tuned spheres'; Twelf. 3/1, 115, 'music from the spheres'; Per. 5/1, 226, 'The music of the spheres.'

^[1]'This, Pythagoras, first of all the Greeks [560 b.c.] conceived in his mind; and understood that the spheres sounded something concordant, because of the necessity of proportion, which never forsakes celestial beings.'

'Pythagoras, by musical proportion, calleth that a tone, by how much the moon is distant from the earth: from the moon to Mercury the half of that space, and from Mercury to Venus almost as much; from Venus to the Sun, sesquiple [i.e., half as much more as a tone]; from the Sun to Mars, a tone, that is as far as the moon is from the earth: from Mars to Jupiter, half, and from Jupiter to Saturn, half, and thence to the zodiac, sesquiple.'

'Thus there are made seven tones, which they call a diapason harmony, that is, an universal concent, in which Saturn moves in the Doric mood, Jupiter in the Phrygian, and in the rest the like.'

'Those sounds which the seven planets, and the sphere of fixed stars, and that which is above us, termed by them Antichton [opposite the earth], make, Pythagoras affirmed to be the Nine Muses; but the composition and symphony … he named Mnemosyne [Memory, the Mother of the Muses].'

Censorinus, a Roman Grammarian, b.c. 238, in his book De Die Natali, says—

'To these things we may add what Pythagoras taught, namely, that the whole world was constructed according to musical ratio, and that the seven planets … have a rhythmical motion and distances adapted to musical intervals, and emit sounds, every one different in proportion to its height [Saturn was said to be the highest, as it is the farthest away, and was supposed to give the gravest note of the heavenly Diapason, which note was therefore called Hypate, or 'highest'], which sounds are so concordant as to produce a most sweet melody, though inaudible to us by reason of the greatness of the sounds, which the narrow passages of our ears are not capable of admitting.'

These extracts fairly represent the ancient opinion about the Music of the spheres. There was a strong tendency last century to revive the notion, and even to our modern ideas, with our Copernican astronomy, there remains at least the possibility of drawing fantastical analogies between the proportionate distances of the planets and the proportionate vibration numbers of the partial tones in a musically vibrating string or pipe.

The idea of the musical Chorus or dance of the heavenly bodies was perfectly familiar to all writers in the 16th and 17th centuries. An excellent example is in Paradise Lost, Book V., in the twelve lines beginning 'So spake the Omnipotent.' Even finer is the 13th verse of the Nativity Hymn.

'Ring out, ye crystal spheres,
Once bless our human ears,
If ye have power to touch our senses so;
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time,
And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow;
And, with your nine-fold harmony,
Make up full concert to the angelic symphony.'

No one could help thinking of the text in Job xxxviii. 7, 'When the morning stars sang together,' in this connection, and Milton naturally refers to it in the previous verse.

Here follow the two Shakespeare extracts. The second one is full of beauty of every kind, but the Pythagoreanism is in the last six lines, with Shakespeare's own view about why we cannot hear the heavenly music.

As You Like It 2/7, 5.

Duke Senior

[of Jacques]. If he, compact of Jars, grow musical, We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.

Merchant 5 1/51.

Lor.	My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, Within the house, your mistress [Portia] is at hand; And bring your music forth into the air. [Exit Stephano.

(Lorenzo and Jessica alone.)

Lor.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. ••••••• L. 60. There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims; Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

This is finer than Pythagoras.

The next three passages are concerned with the 'fantasie' of Music. Jaques gives an opinion in a general form—viz., that the musician's 'melancholy' is 'fantastical'; Mariana and the Duke speak of a certain doubleness that may be noticed in the action of music on the mind. Jessica is 'never merry' when she hears sweet music: Lorenzo descants on the evident effects of music on even hardened natures; while Portia and Nerissa preach a neat little sermon on the text 'Nothing is good without respect,' with musical illustrations of the powerful influence of time and place—e.g., the silence of night, makes the music sound sweeter than by day; the crow sings as well as the lark, if the circumstances favour the crow, or if the lark is not present to give immediate comparison; and even the nightingale's song is no better than the wren's, 'by day, when every goose is cackling.'

As You 4/1, 13.

Jacques.

I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical, etc.

Measure for Measure 4/1, 12. Enter Duke, disguised as a friar (after Song).

Mariana.

I cry you mercy, sir; and well could wish You had not found me here so musical: Let me excuse me, and believe me so, My mirth it much displeased, but pleas'd my woe.

Duke.

'Tis good: though music oft hath such a charm, To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.

Merchant 5/1, 66. Enter musicians.

Lor.	Come ho! and wake Diana with a hymn: With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear, And draw her home with music.[Music.

Jessica.

I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

Lor.

The reason is, your spirits are attentive. For•••••colts, ••••••• If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze. By the sweet power of music: therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods: Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.—Mark the music.

L. 97. Portia and Nerissa.

Por.	… Music! hark!

Ner.	It is your music, madam, of the house.

Por.	Nothing is good, I see, without respect. Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day.

Ner.	Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.

Por.	The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended; and I think, The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd are To their right praise, and true perfection.

Here is an example of a superstitious meaning attaching to supposed mysterious music.

There are very few cases of this kind in Shakespeare—i.e., where the music of the stage is an integral part of the drama.

Antony and Cleop. 4/3, 12. Music of hautboys under the stage.

4 Soldier.

… Peace, what noise?

1 Sold.

List, list!

2 Sold.

Hark!

1 Sold.

Music in the air.

3 Sold.

Under the earth.

4 Sold.

It signs well, does it not?

3 Sold.

No.

1 Sold.

Peace, I say! What should this mean?

2 Sold.

'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony lov'd, Now leaves him.

A very usual popular amusement was the Masque, which would consist of a public procession with decorated cars containing the characters, accompanied by hobby horses, tumblers, and open air music. This is referred to in the next passage, where Theseus speaks of the masque as an 'abridgement' for the evening, that is, an entertainment to shorten the hours. The lamentable play of Pyramus and Thisbe follows, which, it will be noticed, has some of the main features of a masque.

Mid's Night's Dream 5/1, 39

Theseus.

Say, what abridgment have you for this evening? What masque, what music? … ••••••• [Reads from the paper] "A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus, And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth." Merry and tragical! Tedious and brief! That is, hot ice, and wonderous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord?

In the Merchant of Venice, Shylock mentions the procession of a masque through the streets, forbidding Jessica to look out of the window at these 'Christian fools with varnished faces.' The music accompanying the procession is named—viz., drum and fife.

Merchant. 2/5, 22

Lancelot.

'You shall see a masque' …

Shylock.

What! are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica. Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry neck'd fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the public street To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces.

The 'vile squeaking of the wryneck'd fife' is of some musical interest. The adjective 'wryneck'd' refers, not to the instrument itself, which was straight, but to the player, whose head has to be slightly twisted round to get at the mouthpiece. Mersennus (b. 1588) says that the Fife is the same as the Tibia Helvetica, which was simply a small edition of the Flauto Traverso, or German Flute. That is, the Fife of those days was much the same as the modern Fife of the cheaper kind, with the usual six holes, and a big hole near the stopped end, where the breath was applied. The instrument was therefore held across [traverso] the face of the player, whose head would be turned sideways, and hence comes Shylock's' description of it as the 'wryneck'd' fife.

In Much Ado, Benedick draws a distinction between the Drum and Fife and the Tabor and Pipe. The former (see Othello III. iii. 353) were of a decided military cast; whereas the latter were more associated with May Day entertainments, bull-baitings, and out-of-door amusements generally. The Tabor was a little drum, the Pipe (as explained before, in Section III., about Autolycus) a tiny whistle with only three holes. The two were played simultaneously by one person.

Much Ado 2/3, 13. Benedick, of Claudio in love.

Ben.

I have known, when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the tabor and the pipe: … but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; … of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God.

Besides these more civilised 'pipes,' the countryman's pipe of corn-stalk is mentioned by Titania, in Mids. II. ii. 8. This was really a 'reed,' not a whistle of any kind.

The tabor leads one on to the Tabourine, which was the full-sized military drum, corresponding to the modern side-drum. See Troil. 4/5, 275. 'Beat loud the tabourines,' and Antony 4/8, 37, 'our rattling tabourines.'

The drum supplied the great proportion of military music in those days, besides having its importance as a means of signalling orders to the troops. This is dealt with more fully in the chapter on Stage Directions.

Parolles' sham anxiety about a lost drum is mentioned fourteen or fifteen times in All's Well III. v. and vi.; and IV. i. Parolles earns his nickname of 'Tom Drum,' in Act V. iii. 320.

The following is an interesting passage of a more serious kind—

K. John 5/2, 164.

Lewis

[Dauphin.] Strike up the drums! and let the tongue of war Plead for our interest, and our being here.

Bastard.

Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out; And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start An echo with the clamour of thy drum, And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd, That shall reverberate all as loud as thine; Sound but another, and another shall, As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear, And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder.

An entirely different use of the Drum is alluded to by Parolles, in his slanderous evidence against Captain Dumain.

All's Well 4/3, 262.

1 Soldier.

What say you to his expertness in war?

Parolles.

'Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English tragedians, … and more of his soldiership I know not.

There are several occasions in Shakespeare when trumpets are sounded to herald the approach of play-actors, but drums are not mentioned in this connection except here. Rimbault's Preface to Purcell's Opera 'Bonduca' (Musical Antiquarian Society) says that a Play was always introduced by the trumpet sounding three times, after which the Prologue entered. Dekker, referring to the list of errata in his 'Satiromastix,' 1602, says—"Instead of the trumpets sounding thrice before the play begin, it shall not be amiss for him that will read, first to behold this short Comedy of Errors."

1. Hist. of Philos., by Thomas Stanley, edit. 1701.